This week, the finely fettled folks at Trifecta picked the third definition of the word Death
(3 capitalized : the destroyer of life represented usually as a skeleton with a scythe).

And to make it even M O R E, this also links up with the gloriously fabulous AccordingToMags (Part 1), and the fabulously glorious OldDogNewTits (Part 3) for parts one and three.
Each stands well alone, all three fit well together. (like a trifecta!)(see what I did there?)(hehehe)

So start there, come here, then finish off the triad, as Death takes a holiday! (Or at least tries to…)

Death Takes A Holiday – Part 2

The tall gaunt figure strode across the beach, pale skin reflecting more than his garish teal and orange shorts. Others pulled back, clearing a path for him and his companions to the beachfront.
One companion followed, carrying a large cooler. He showed no discomfort under his robe, snapping gum excitedly with each step. The other companion lagged, his overweight body sweating profusely in the sun.
“Here” boomed the leader, pointing a bony finger.
“You got it Boss”, said the second, snapping his gum.
The first sighed. “It’s our day off, Nausea. No need to call me Boss.”
“Sorry boss”, said Nausea, settling the cooler.

“I got it!” shouted the third. “’I got the motive which is money, and the body which is dead!’ Bet you don’t know that one”.
The gaunt one smiled, a ghastly display of moldy recessed teeth. “In The Heat Of The Night.” He chuckled, a cavernous echoing sound. “Good try, George.”
George laughed. “I’ll stump you one day.”

The cadaverous fellow grinned, pulling out stacks of wood. He twisted and bent, unfolding them against their hinges to form three beautiful Adirondack chairs, which he and his companions fell into with sighs.
“You make these, boss?” asked Nausea, gum snapping.
”Well, carpentry is a hobby. It relieves stress.”
George said “You should see the stuff he made for my Accounting Office!”
They opened the cooler, enjoying cold drinks, snacks, conversation, until a scream disturbed them.

“Oh god!” shrieked a woman. “Harry! My god, he’s had a heart attack!” she wailed over the prone man beside her.
Nausea squinted at the vague outline of a spirit rising slowly. “No rest for guys like us, huh boss?” he asked, rising. His boss reached out, nudging Nausea into his chair. His other hand rose towards the spirit, clenched, and slammed down.
The spirit jerked back into its vessel. Harry coughed, sputtered, and sat up to stare at the trio.

The gaunt man settled in his chair, popping another beer.
“Death is off today.”

I thought about answering with a limerick, but no go …. If I ever consider a name change, it could be to Nausea. Meanwhile, like the way you weaved various death-isms into the story. Nice ending. Well done Guapo!

You’ve provoked all kinds of ideas with “death is off today.” Sounds like a day for some fun and reckless behavior, if you ask me! This is a great idea and a great story. I hope you guys will continue this.

If the word gets around that Death is off today, there will be lots of mis- and careless behavior. Perfect place for the lot to set up vaca! I’m also growing fond of Nausea! Loved that he grabbed the spirit and threw it back into the vessel. This is really, really fun to read. Off I go!

Aha! Death seems like a pretty decent guy. George and Nausea seem like they get along well too. That’s makes all the difference in job satisfaction. I just hope somebody remembered to bring the sunscreen! Well done EG!